


Hot for You

by Renai_chan



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Autofellatio, M/M, Multi, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, because I wrote it in two hours, but after its all said and done, first draft, just porn, literally nothing else, only about a third of this is actual porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 09:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13784445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: You know those gonzo porn vids with somewhat morally dubious, non-SSC backstories about the house cleaner being seduced by the married couple?Yeah, this is that. Literally. I watched a porn vid and thought, you know what would be hot? Harry and Merlin seducing their house cleaner, Eggsy.





	Hot for You

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm... back? ... again?
> 
> God, churning out fics is becoming so difficult! I want to write, I have _tons_ of ideas, but the words just. won't. come. Even this one was forced as all fuck; I have no doubt the writing is shit. But yeah. Maybe this will unclog the constipation in my brain. Or maybe not.
> 
> In any case, enjoy...?

It all starts because of the blasted heatwave that assaults the British isles.

For months--nay, _decades_! The British people have moaned and whinged and griped about the country’s iconic, awful, wet weather and now again they moan and whinge and gripe about the unnatural heat. 

And Eggsy, Eggsy was nearly down to bare skin in his clients’ home, a mere two items of clothing away from his birthday suit as he navigated his way from kitchen to master bedroom with a cleaning bucket and rag.

He was only grateful that his clients, a posh older married couple, were the type who didn’t look down the length of their noses at mere plebs like Eggsy who cleaned houses for a living. More importantly, they weren’t oft home as both men were, as Eggsy had come to know over the past five months, massive workaholics.

He rarely ever saw them, maybe give or take three times apiece since he started working for them and only ever once together. Whenever his schedule rotated to theirs--Wednesdays and Saturdays every week--he’d simply find a list of instructions on the entryway table and a massive tip “for his efforts.” Probably why this was his favorite house to visit and why he always went above and beyond for them.

That and because both men were fucking _gorgeous_.

But Eggsy wasn’t deluded. He was young and horny, yes, but not an idiot, so his fantasies remained fantasies, and each day, like today, he kept to lugging around his cleaning materials and making sure to keep their home spic and span beyond their expectations. Although today, he found himself with more inconvenience than trepidation, leading to him shucking his polo and socks to pad around half naked and barefoot in their home.

By half one, he’d finished cleaning the downstairs, including brushing Mr. Pickles' brown coat into a high shine because he thought the Hart-McTaverns would appreciate it (he’d grown used to the little thing, nevermind the massive fucking heart attack it had given him the first time he encountered it). So after a quick lunch at the kitchen table, he headed upstairs to do the second floor.

He always started with the Master bedroom because there was always little to do here. Another thing Eggsy had come to know about them is that unlike many of his other clients, the Hart-McTaverns weren’t disgusting slobs who expected Eggsy to pick up after them. The bed was always made to military perfection, drawers organized with the same precision, not a comb out of place. Therefore, today, while it wasn’t alarming, it was rather unusual to find one of the drawers haphazardly stuffed and shut with clothes sticking out of the edge. 

Eggsy knelt on the floor in front of it and tugged it out further so that he could refold the clothes inside.

Now, Eggsy wasn’t a snoop nor was he a grass. If he saw anything in his clients’ homes, it wasn’t because he went looking for dirt (the proverbial kind, of course) but that he just _happened_ to cross paths with it, and, more importantly, he kept that shit to himself. And in his seventeen months as a cleaner, he’d seen some _crazy_ shit (literally and figuratively, ha!). So really, when he tripped some sort of switch at the bottom of the drawer that opened up a secret panel on the other side of the room to display a frankly _impressive_ collection of sex toys, he was barely fazed. A little appreciative, truth be told. And maybe also a little turned on.

He couldn’t help but abandon his task to inspect it up close. Each one of the toys was a beautiful piece of equipment in its own right--his clients certainly didn’t scrimp--displayed as magnificently as one would jewelry. There were dildos and plugs of all materials, glinting rings and cages, collars and harnesses in buttery leather, shiny satin ropes in varying colors, daunting but impressive whips, floggers and paddles, various other things that Eggsy wasn’t quite sure how to use, but all of it inspiring such fantastic images of the two Mr. Hart-McTaverns making use of them that Eggsy vaguely thought that thinking of them like that while he was half naked in their bedroom probably wasn’t the best idea, so he turned back to the drawer and flipped the switch that concealed the cabinet and went about the rest of his day.

If, during his next visit to the Hart-McTavern household and every other visit from then on, he found a heftier tip envelope atop his list of tasks, he chalked it up to their appreciation of his discretion and thought nothing of it further.

……..

Of course, over the next few weeks, the heat didn’t let up, and more and more, Eggsy found himself bare chested in his clients' home. Around the third time, he felt comfortable enough in his skin to shake his ass to the beat of Despacito while sliding the mop across the kitchen floor. By the fifth, with sweat _pouring_ off of him, he was half considering hopping into one of their showers. 

The house usually had a decent enough temperature, but right now the heat inside felt even worse than the heat outside. The internal temperature controls must have been going haywire or something, and Eggsy was seriously thinking of letting his trousers go the way of his shirt. It was positively _sweltering_.

After moaning about it a bit with Mr. Pickle, Eggsy headed up to the master bedroom to see if there wasn’t anything else he could clean there. A cursory glance around told him that he could move on already to the master bath, except for, once again, the drawer with the little secret switch in disarray. 

He told himself he wouldn’t intrude--one way or another, they already knew he’d seen it. Looking at the toys once more might get him in trouble--but a quick glance at the king-sized bed and the visions that it inspired had him going against his decision. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets there. 

When the toys were revealed to him, he spent a good half hour staring at them, imagining all the ways they could be used.

Eggsy decided that Mr. Rupert (or Mr. Merlin, rather, as he’d been invited to call him. A nickname with a long history that Mr. Merlin hadn’t had the time to discuss then)--with his curt words and severe stare--was the more dominant of the two, while Mr. Harry--polite Mr. Harry with an utterly gorgeous dimpled, toothy smile and whose brown curls clearly wanted to rebel against its coiffed style, would receive.

He’d be on his belly, arms strung up over his head, mile-long legs stretched and spread while Mr. Merlin pushed the pretty glass cock in him. He’d beg, Eggsy surmised, but in a tone so feigned that Mr. Merlin would leave the cock in him so that he could smack the impertinence out of him. 

At that mental image, Eggsy gave into temptation, reaching inside and picking up the medium-sized glass dildo he’d had his eye on, half wondering how they would look while using it and half wanting to try it on himself.

And Christ, he needed to get himself his own sex life.

Shaking his head to clear himself out of his stupor, he put the dildo back and shut the secret door. 

……

The Saturday after that was especially horrific. 

Just after lunch, Eggsy gave in to the heat and availed himself of the guest shower. He’d come prepared: he wore his thinnest clothes, brought enough towels to mop up his sweat, and, as a last resort, brought over his shower gear that he now opted to use. 

Swear down, it was _boiling_ in here. It had to be at least three degrees hotter than the outside, and Eggsy resolved to make a note to the Hart-McTaverns about getting their heater checked.

Cooler now, he wandered absently out into the hallway, rubbing the water out of his hair with a towel, and found himself stopped at the door of the master. Immediately, the secret cabinet came to mind, likely bolstered by his freshly showered situation and the intrusiveness he’d already displayed by using their bathroom.

Before rationality could get the better of him, he flipped the switch and got his hands on the glass cock he’d been admiring before. It wasn’t the biggest toy of the collection, not the most impressive or unusual, but it was a gorgeous piece of work. Much like its owners, he imagined.

He checked the clock. It was two in the afternoon. Neither of the couple would be back any earlier than four.

He bit his lip and ran his fingers over the cool, ridged veins.

“This is fucked up,” he said to the vacancy of the room, as if that would be enough to stop him. As if that would justify his next actions.

In for a penny, though.

He stole to the nightstand, and a cursory rummage found him a tube of lube. Without giving himself any time to consider the repercussions of his action, he shucked his shorts and climbed onto the bed.

“I’m _so_ going to get fired,” he said again, but he was already coating a pair of fingers with the stolen lube and pushing them into his hole, twice at once.

His rim burned at the intrusion. Too much and not enough all at once, but he moaned because he’d always liked a bit of pain with his pleasure. Loudly, because who was there to hear him? 

His legs split open further, and he contorted his body to press his fingers in deep, stroking himself in all the ways that he knew would light his nerve endings up, avoiding his prostate for now because he would get to it later.

There was an image of Mr. Harry in his mind, of his fingers in Eggsy’s arse and his toothy, dimpled smile directed full force at Eggsy, and of Mr. Merlin, seated at the foot of the bed, watching his husband debauch Eggsy.

Eggsy moaned again and immediately pressed another finger into himself. He spread his fingers to loosen himself up for the glass cock, much too fast, much too eagerly, but the heatwave spurred him on, made him desperate for the cool hardness to fill him. And who was he to deny what his body wanted?

His other hand flailed for the dildo, grabbing it and pressing it against his hole nearly dry, save for the lube his fingers had left behind. He lifted his legs off the bed and spread them wide to give to cock space to enter him. 

The novelty of its hardness, unlike the usual dildos he used, and the slight burn of friction created a delicious pain that had Eggsy whimpering, “God…!” 

Each centimeter earned a ridiculously pornographic moan, and when he had shoved the entire length in, he left it there, pressing both hands against the bed so that he could relish the feel of it filling him up.

He shut his eyes and thought about how he looked, practically bent in half, his legs a nice, wide V in the air, and his cock fat and untouched in the middle of it. The glass cock would give any observer a fantastic view of his insides, but with nothing holding it in place, it slowly slid out of him, an obscene millimeter at a time.

“Oh God, fuck…” he moaned to no one in particular. He could feel the cock nearly reaching its end, his arse clutching desperately around it to keep it in place. 

But before he could reach for it to shove it back in, it suddenly did so of its own accord, so quickly and harshly that it ripped a shout from his throat.

His back shot up off the bed, arching as the glass cock started pounding mercilessly into his hole, splitting him even further open, turning him inside out. Every once in a while it nudged up against his prostate, making him _howl_.

Tears built up in the corner of his shut eyes as his hands scrabbled for the bedspread, twisting it to tether him to the earth while his consciousness shot to the stars.

Hands gripped the backs of his knees, bending him further over to pin his knees to the bed beside his ears. Another hand gripped his arse punishingly tight right beside the pounding dildo.

“That’s it, lad,” came a deep voice from above him. He cried out, encouraged, writhing to meet the thrusts of the cock. His hands flew upward to grasp at a pair of thighs. “Very good, Eggsy.”

“Look how lovely he looks, darling,” came another voice from below him this time. He knew exactly who they were, and shame and arousal filled him, but the dildo was still pounding into him with such force that a very, very tiny part of him was worried about it shattering, such pleasure that he could say nothing or do nothing than allow himself to be subject to their mercy.

“Please…” he begged again. His back and thighs were _burning_ from being bent over so far, but he could bear it if it meant the cock wouldn’t stop fucking him. He could only thank God for a flexibility nurtured by years of gymnastics in his childhood.

“Can you reach your cock, boy? Can you taste yourself?” Mr. Merlin at his head asked.

“I… I don’t… don’t know” Eggsy sobbed, refusing to open his eyes. Mr. Merlin tugged his knees back further. It was nearly painful now, but when he was told “open your mouth,” he did.

He could only reach the tip of his dick, but he closed his lips around it and suckled obediently.

It was a superbly strange feeling, like he was sucking on a finger, but at the same time, electricity shot from his cock to the rest of his body, firing up his nerve endings. It was the obscenity of it that was pushing him towards the edge of his sanity.

The dildo’s thrusts slowed, considerably enough that Eggsy inadvertently opened his eyes to see Mr. Harry watching him with rapture and fascination and such a burning desire that maybe he wanted to show off a little more by taking a centimeter further into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks as he sucked.

“ _Christ_ , you are a treasure,” Mr. Harry murmured reverently. And then the dildo was ripping into him again, and he sobbed around his cock. 

“You can come anytime you feel the need to, Eggsy, but come in your mouth,” were Mr. Merlin’s instructions that were muted by the roaring pleasure in his ears.

His eyes were streaming freely now, but Eggsy couldn’t move to wipe them, only clutch harder at Mr. Merlin and take Mr. Harry’s thrusts and blow himself.

And when it finally came, his orgasm hit him like a bus, slamming into him full force and whiting out his vision. Come--his own come--flooded his mouth, muffling his scream, but in the next second, there was a tongue in his mouth, replacing his still spurting cock and scooping out the salty fluid. 

Said tongue abandoned him after only a moment, but he looked up to find Mr. Harry and Mr. Merlin kissing above him, their tongues visibly twining to share his come between them. Flecks of it, the come Eggsy hadn’t managed to suck in, decorated the underside of Mr.Harry’s jaw. Mr. Merlin seemed to realize it, too, because he pushed Mr. Harry back and laved his tongue over the other man’s throat with a hearty groan.

“ _Darling_ ,” Mr. Harry groaned. His hand on Eggsy’s arse tightened, and the other shifted the dildo inside him, making him choke on his own saliva. This brought the pair back to reality.

They both looked down at him with equally hungry, enamoured looks that made something flutter wildly in Eggsy’s belly.

Mr. Merlin let down Eggsy’s legs slowly while Mr. Harry withdrew the dildo. His muscles, having gone practically numb, protested the sudden rush of blood, and Mr. Harry murmured a “shhh” at Eggsy’s whine of pain while pressing his fingers into Eggsy’s aching muscles.

“Poor boy. Was Merlin too hard on you, lovely?” he crooned while his fingers did delightful things to Eggsy’s nether regions that valiantly tried to show its appreciation.

“Fuck,” was Eggsy’s response, throwing an arm over his eyes and earning himself amused grins from both men that he didn’t see.

“You and your bleeding heart for pretty things,” Merlin scoffed, but there was a smile in his voice. “This ‘poor boy’ deserves more than that for doing naughty things in other people’s beds with their toys.”

Eggsy’s insides froze at the rebuke, and maybe his muscles did too because Mr. Harry was once more crooning praises and reassurances at him. His lips were pressed to the skin beneath his ear, whispering, “Don’t worry, lovely, Merlin’s teasing you. We’ve been wanting to have you in our bed for such a long time. You're so beautiful, we’ve talked so much about you, haven’t we, darling?”

To this, Eggsy peeked at him from beneath his arm. “You have?”

“Ever since you started brushing Mr. Pickles' hair, Harry’s been infatuated with you,” Mr. Merlin said with a roll of his eyes, but his fingers were scratching at Eggsy’s scalp which sent delicious lines of electricity running down his spine to his cock. “That you took to cleaning our home half naked certainly didn’t help. And then you found our cabinet of wonders, and suddenly, it’s all he’s talked about.”

“I recall you waxing poetic about turning his bottom the exact shade of a Washington apple, darling,” Mr. Harry answered while gnawing a bruise into Eggsy’s neck, and Eggsy found himself picturing being slung over Mr. Merlin’s lap, crying out with every powerful smack at his arse. Maybe having his hands tied behind his back. And maybe even with Mr. Harry’s cock in his mouth.

“Please?” he tried with an expression that hopefully conveyed his eager approval.

Mr. Merlin’s eyes glittered.

“Oh, boyo, you’re going to be in for a fucking ride.”

**Author's Note:**

> so that happened


End file.
